


Graces

by plus_minus



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-04 20:23:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13372383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plus_minus/pseuds/plus_minus
Summary: In Gran Pulse it is customary to give thanks before a meal.(Three one shots that take place during the FFXIII timeline.)





	1. The Vile Peaks

It has been a few hours since Vanille and Sazh have separated from the female soldier and the young teenager. He has doubts about their decision to part, but so far things have worked in their favor. The only enemies around are guard robots, which are easily disabled with a couple of shocks of magic. Along the way to the path to Sunleth, they get lucky and find supplies that PSICOM either forgot about or didn't bother guarding. They debate on whether or not it might be a trap. It isn't, as far as they can see, so they take what they need and move along.

Two hours before sunset Vanille complains that she could do without the military rations they found and insists on finding food for them. Thanks to his mandatory wilderness survival training, Sazh starts to tell her about the different types of wild vegetables and berries they might find as they approach Sunleth. It's useless information though; all they have seen so far are piles of junk.

"Hm," the girl pauses, bringing her right index finger to her lips. "I was thinking about hunting for one of those birds we’ve seen flying around, with their nests everywhere."

He says it's fine, that he will set up the tents and campfire. If he hadn't already realized that she was much, much more adept at combat than she had looked, he'd have balked at the thought of it. The way that she’s able to identify how fresh robot tracks were, and is able to sneak around some of the more dangerous security machinery they encounter...she seems to have an equal or better awareness about her than Lightning, the soldier. Yesterday, when Sazh asked Vanille how she'd developed this keenness, she quickly replied that she had read a lot about animals and nature as a kid. It wasn't a convincing answer, but he let it go.

She returns within half an hour with a huge grin, but more importantly with a duck.  He watches her prepare it as he gets the fire going. It clearly hasn't been her first time doing this. After quickly pulling some feathers from the breast area, she makes an incision only an inch long. From there, she is able to remove the skin, slowly pulling it off at some parts, but also giving a few strategic but strong yanks and slices to free the breast meat.

She hums idly to herself as she does the work. It’s incredible, how nonchalant the whole ordeal is. A couple of days ago Lightning and that man Snow gutted a wolf, and they'd taken half the care that she did. What they decided on was sloppy anyway; they hastily sliced its belly open, bickering about which meat was fit for cooking. Why had she not offered her expertise then?

As he gives her some water so she can wipe away the blood from her hands, she makes a noise of surprise. "Oh! I'm going to need two pans for this. May I use yours?"

He removes his from his pack and puts it on the ground beside her. One pan is the perfect size for cooking the amount of meat they have from the breast and limbs, so he's a bit confused as to why they need two. "Sure. There that much meat on the thing?"

"Well, one pan would be for the meat, and it would be good to cook the innards in another!" she chirps.

"Innards?"

"Like the gizzards and organs and stuff. We can't waste it. That's some of the best parts!"

He groans. People eat _organs_?

"If you don't like it, that's more for me. I'm really hungry, anyway."

\---

When the meal is finally cooked, Vanille gives him most of the meat and she takes the rest. Sazh digs in to his food right away, but out of the corner of his eye he watches as Vanille puts her fingers out in front of her. He’s inquired about that too, but she says that it’s a meaningless childhood habit. He’s not sure if he believes the girl; while she’s doing that she always has a look of intense concentration. He wants to press her further about a lot of things, to understand where she's from, but it’s clear that he will always get a smile paired with an evasive answer.

They eat. The meat is bland. It’s slightly overcooked as well, but this is no restaurant. It's merely a relief to have a hot meal instead of a hard nutrition bar.

As they dine quietly, he wonders. This girl knows how to survive in the wild. He's always heard rumors about groups of people on Cocoon who lived without depending on the fal'Cie for food and shelter. These tribes were mentioned in passing, and always in mockery; how could those inane savages choose to live without the guaranteed safety that society provided? Perhaps she was from one of those tribes. Maybe that's why she spoke with an unfamiliar accent, and why she was indifferent to the hysteria about being turned into l'Cie.

But if that's where she was from, what had she been doing in New Bodhum to get caught up in the Purge? It’s possible that they'd found her in the woods on the border, he reasons.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices she's leaned against a hunk of rounded steel, military grade blanket wrapped around herself. Her eyes are focused above.

"What are you looking at up there? Anything troublesome?" he jokes.

But she makes a non committal noise in response. Maybe she's still in shock, and that's why she doesn't talk about herself. Doesn't want to think about any family she's left behind for good.

Family. The word pushes his own thoughts elsewhere. _Dajh_. His poor boy, dragged along by cruel fate. It hurts worse knowing that things had finally been looking up in the past month for his son. Sazh had turned into a bit of a recluse after his wife died, and it had affected his only child. Even Dajh's teacher at school had told him that the boy wasn't doing well socially, that he'd prefer to quietly play alone. But a few weeks ago he'd attempted to remedy that. The two of them had gone to a local waterpark, where he had befriended another kid. Sazh had made pleasant conversation with the parents as their children played an extensive game of water gun tag, and they'd found out they'd lived a few miles away from each other. They'd exchanged contact information and Sazh had given a loose commitment to bring his son back there the weekend after their trip to the Euride plant.

He'd have to miss out on those plans. Now it would be miraculous for him and his son to be able to go anywhere together at all.

He grunts, chastising himself. 'Can't think like this. Gotta keep my sights ahead of me. Can't go-'

"The lights. I was thinking about them." She interrupts his internal pep talk. "Do you know about the stars on Gran Pulse?"

"Who doesn't?" He’d learned a bit about the atmosphere of Gran Pulse during his pilot training. Gran Pulse has stars in their night sky, faraway lights from celestial bodies. The lights in the skies of Cocoon are merely the illumination of nearby cities.

"Oh. I was just thinking that it's sad that there are stars there, but here it’s,” she frowns pensively. “Fake. Do you think there’s a place on Cocoon where the sky is completely dark?”

He shrugs. “Everywhere’s near a city. If there was, it’d be unsettling anyway. All that darkness.”

“You’re right, I suppose it would be.” She shakes her head and the negative expression on her face vanishes. “Well, I suppose that’s enough for chatting. We should probably clean up for the night, shouldn’t we?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This small collection is based off of the premise mentioned in Episode Zero that Fang and Vanille pray before they eat a meal. These stories have been in the works for a while, almost a year. The other two chapters I will post have had first drafts posted to my Tumblr already, but this one has not been posted there.
> 
> Much thanks to my friend and beta SXM132 for the editing suggestions.


	2. Palumpolum

"I don't have much food, but it should be enough for you and your friends. We can put it on two trays."

Bartholomew's eyes are still red from crying over the loss of his wife, but as Hope remembers, he strives to be a good host. Together they sort through the food in the vacuum-sealer, a large container where they store their food. Hope notices that it looks sparse. At least there's enough to feed the five of them. After today his father will have to order some more. If he was so worried about losing his son and wife in the Purge that he didn't even have the willpower to input the simple commands on the computer terminal...Hope feels guilty about what he said to Sazh and Vanille in the Vile Peaks: his father does care. If he ever saw Sazh again, he would tell that man that he was right, but given their grim situation they are likely to never cross paths again.

As Hope and his father divide the food between two trays, the teenager once again remembers that this will most likely be the last time he is in the kitchen of his childhood home. His chest feels as if it is rapidly sinking and his shoulders sag. Tears come to his eyes, but he suppresses them. He needs to stunt these emotions; the transient existence of a l'Cie is his reality now. Crying might make the brand grow faster, putting him in even greater peril.

Hope’s father volunteers to take the tray to Lightning and Snow in their guest bedroom. That leaves him to take the other one to the woman named Fang, who is in their living room. Hope finds her with her sights transfixed at the television, perched on one of the arms of the couch. She's watching a program about the history of trains in Cocoon. Dried blood and dirt are crusted splotches on her face and arms.

At least she is polite enough to not get the couch dirty, but he prefers that she was already cleaned up. ‘Why hasn’t she used the shower jets to clean herself off yet? I let her know she could use it. The bathroom’s empty right now.’ He recalls the brief tour of the apartment he had given to her and Lightning. They might as well take advantage of these resources now, while they have this finite moment to relax.

That’s not the only thing about her that’s abnormal. Her outfit is nothing like he's ever seen before. A silky blue fabric is draped over one shoulder and both of her legs, secured with a belt around her waist. When she speaks, she draws out certain sounds with an accent that Hope cannot recognize. She's also marked as a l'Cie, but her brand is white instead of black. Upon introducing herself to Hope, Fang admitted that she had no memories of how she got the brand or why it remains static.

"Hey, uh, I brought some food in if you were hungry." He's nearly tempted to start a conversation about the program she's watching. Maybe it's a topic she's passionate about. It would be the polite thing to do, too, but he stays silent. The weariness and the grief in his bones gets the better of him.

"Alright, that looks good." She grins as he puts the platter and spare plates on the shallow table by the couch. "Hope's the name, right? You eat yet?" Hope shakes his head as he thinks about how much his stomach growled when he first picked up the tray.

"Have some too. I can't eat all of this by myself. But wait a second." She flips her hands so her palms are open, and intertwines her fingers together so that three from her right hand and two from the other hand are below her palms. Both thumbs face away from her. He has seen Vanille do this the few times they shared a meal together. When Sazh asked her about why she did this, she giggled and dismissed it as a silly habit. But this is too much of a coincidence...

"I swear, why does everybody have to stare when I do this?"

"I, uh, sorry, it's not that. I've just seen-" he stammers, but before he can finish his thought, Fang cuts him off.

"You've seen Vanille do the same thing, yeah?"

"You know Vanille?!"

She arches her head back and gives a quick burst of laughter. It comes off as condescending. "Yeah, I know her well enough you could say. We grew up together on Gran Pulse."

"Pulse?! You're from Pulse? Vanille is too?" He had no idea people were still on the land that sits below Cocoon. "Wow, um, she never said anything about it."

When the initial shock subsides, Hope feels slightly hurt. He understands why Vanille would not volunteer that information about herself, given the past war between Cocoon and Pulse. Vanille had helped him so much in such a short time, yet she remained distant about herself, deflecting any personal questions with a laugh and deft change of subject. It was sad, to feel connected with somebody else only to find out you didn't know them at all. Even more disheartening was the idea that their parting in the Vile Peaks would probably be the last time they saw one another.

"Yeah, but it's _Gran_ Pulse. Anyways, Light told me that she didn't spend much time with Vanille, but that you did. How was she doing?"

"Um, I wouldn't really call it a long time, you know. She seemed...happy I guess. Um, so you know about her being made a l'Cie, right?" Fang nods in response. "It didn't bother her as much. I think when all of us were branded by Anima she took it the best of all. She was always smiling and joking."

Fang glowers for a quick second. Hope only thinks it's because she must be concerned for the younger girl's becoming marked by the fal’Cie. "And what of that guy she left with, Sazh? Do you know where they were headed?"

He scratches the back of his neck to ease a non-existent itch. "No, they didn't say where they were going."

"It's alright." Fang looks at the ground and nods her head before staring him straight in the eyes. "You don't have to worry about it. I'll find her."

Hope has his doubts about her chances of success. But after the events of the past couple of days, a second type of thought emerges in his head. ‘Light was saying that you should just do something and not think about whether it's possible. But...maybe believing that it's possible is better, even though that's harder. Because that's how you stay positive and follow through.’

The woman in front of him gestures to the platter of small sandwiches and sauces before them. "Well, now that you know that I'm not from your world, you've got to tell me what's good here."

So he does. Since he doesn't know if she's ever had a real meal on Cocoon, he struggles with some descriptions. Although it appears that they share the same language, he's not sure what types of foods she knows about. So he resorts to using basic words like "sweet", "crunchy", or "creamy" to describe things. He becomes flustered as he eventually remembers that he was supposed to get them drinks. Despite his misgivings, she smiles and lets him take his time with everything. Given her rough demeanor her kindness is surprising. He is thankful for it.

The rest of the meal, they make small talk. She reminiscences about Vanille and the quaint village she grew up in, then asks him about Palumpolum. Before, he didn't feel like discussing much, but she's so easygoing he feels more inclined to answer her questions. He even feels comfortable enough to tease her about not knowing how to use the buttons for the shower, which he agrees to explain to her after he cleans up the dishes.

Hope only mentions his mother when he has to. Otherwise, he's afraid he will lose control of his grief. But there's one thing he needs her to do. By the time they've finished the meal he has the strength to talk about it.

"Fang, I know your people pray for departed souls. Vanille told me about it. I mentioned it before, but my mother died in the Purge. Will you..." He's attempting to get the words out, staring at the television on the wall, trying not to look her in the eyes. "Could you pray for her soul?"

"Of course, kid. What’s her name?" she replies softly.

"Nora Estheim."

Hope has never prayed for anything. The fal'Cie promised to the people of Cocoon that they took care of the dead. But now he knows the truth; to the fal'Cie, humans are completely disposable. For this reason it's possible that praying is useless, that it will do nothing to help his mother’s soul. Even so, it’s nice to know that someone cares enough to try.

"Thank you, Fang. I really, truly, appreciate it." With shaking hands he takes the dirty dishes and bowls to the kitchen. Only there does he let himself cry.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize, I meant to have this up earlier. Time slipped away from me.
> 
> This chapter was originally posted as a first draft on my Tumblr late January of 2017. It is one of my favorites that I've written and as of now it's the one that I'm most proud of. I feel that I was able to take two main characters that have the least amount of interaction in the game and still have this story still feel natural. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and I hope that you enjoyed it.
> 
> Much thanks to my beta and friend SXM132 for editing comments.


	3. Vallis Media

“You want to say it out loud?” Fang looks at Vanille as they join hands.

“Sure,” the younger woman replies with enthusiasm, “They need a real feel of what life on Gran Pulse is really like!”

“What’re you going to say?” Hope inquirers.

“Say grace, silly! We told you we pray before a meal, but now I’m finally going to say it out loud!” Vanille is beaming with excitement. It’s liberating to be able to discuss with them the differences between how they grew up. It’s even better when they’re the ones to initiate the conversation. Now that her new companions know that she’s not from Cocoon, she can be herself; no more lying about where she's from.

“Well whatever you’re going to say, say it quick. Food’s gonna get cold,” Sazh adds. The meal, spread out before them, is impressive considering their journey. It has been mere hours since their arrival on Gran Pulse, yet they have a small assortment of food. Lightning and Snow had managed to salvage the edible parts of a couple flan and a sahagin as they scouted for a safe area to camp, and Vanille had gone off with Fang to find enough berries and nuts for each of them to have a small bowl.

Vanille knits her brows in concentration before she begins:

_“Great God Pulse,_

_Thank you for this meal._

_The food on this table shall not go in vain,_

_Nor will the sacrifices of hunter, farmer, and beast._

_Please look favorably upon us_

_In our humble existence._

_Praise be.”_

As soon as she finishes speaking, Fang reaches out to the food with her fork.

“Wait!” Vanille yelps as she snatches her hand away before continuing. “Great God Pulse, thank you for bringing me and Fang back home-”

“It’s only gonna get colder, she never shuts up. Always has to add on to the traditional prayer,” Fang whispers as she leans over to Sazh’s ear.

“Hey, I heard that! Anyways, Pulse, please forgive her. As you know Fang can be a little thankless sometimes-”

“Everybody’s gonna be thankless once this food gets cold as ice!”

“You two are like children,” Lightning sternly interjects, irritated. “Vanille, please finish what you need to say. We are all _starving_. The sooner you get this done, the better.”

“’Kay. I’ll be quick. Promise.” She nods. “Well as I was saying, I’m really glad to be back. I know Fang is too, even though she might not be acting like it right now. I’d really like to thank you for these friends on our journey. I just hope they see how wonderful Gran Pulse really is!" She takes her hands away from the others and throws them in the air. "Okay everyone, now it’s time to eat!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the first multi-chapter fic in my entire life that I've finished completely (and I've been writing fic for a while, ha). If you've made it this far I very much appreciate you taking the time to read what I wrote. Every kudos and comment means a lot to me, but even a page visit brings a small joy :')
> 
> A draft of this chapter was originally published on my Tumblr during May 2017. Thanks again to my friend and beta SXM132 for the editing advice. It is much appreciated.


End file.
